Tonks' Lament
by KeatsLove
Summary: What do you do with a commitment phobic werewolf? Tonks does everything in her power to get Remus Lupin to agree to snatch a little bit of happiness in the dark times they're living in.
1. Chapter 1

Tonks' Lament

"Urgh, I feel like such a total bam!" I complain to Molly Weasley -- the only person I hadn't driven insane yet from lamenting on my 'problem.' "Can I even string two words together that aren't 'too right' or 'got'cha' around him? And my hair!" I try to fluff the limp brownish mess. "It's hideous. I'm hideous. No wonder he looks at me like I just crawled out of the rubbish heap. Oh, Molly, it's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless."

"Now, now, dear, nothing is ever hopeless," Molly says, patting my hand in that comforting Mum way she has. "Why don't you have some fudge? Everything always seems better after fudge."

"No thank you," I say, blowing my nose for what must have been the six billionth time that day. "Can't you think of any advice to give me? That would make me feel better than fudge."

Molly bites her lower lip in concentration, thinking. "Well, dear, the best advice I can give is talk to him. Dear Remus is a little – shall we say – _oblivious_ to certain aspects of life. He probably has no idea how you feel."

"How I feel? I've tried talking, I've tried food invites, I've tried everything short of wearing a shirt that says 'Fancy a Shag?' Now I've moved on to the Stupid Silence and Miserable stage. Shouldn't it be obvious enough for him to at least ask what's wrong?"

"Sometimes Remus needs the obvious stated for him," Molly says. "You're a strong girl so now you need to act like it. _Tell him_. You'll feel better. Trust me."

"Well, I suppose you're right," I say, standing and arranging my messenger bag over my left shoulder. "You have like –what? -- a gazillion kids so motherly advice must come naturally. Thanks, Molly. I'll keep you posted on any Operation Werewolf progress...Or lack thereof."

"Please do, dear," she says, waving as I use the front door instead of Apparating. I feel like walking today. Maybe the fresh air will do me some good.


	2. Chapter 2

Tonks' Lament - Chapter 2

The wind picks up once I'm outdoors so I button my jacket. It's one of those Navy Surplus Store Peacoats. Still has someone's patches on it and everything. I call this blustery type of afternoon "thinking weather" -- though no amount of thinking will get me out of the latest. Like Molly said, it's time for some doing.

But where to find Lupin?

Probably round some books.

I'm tempted to Apparate, but walking clears the mind and bucks up courage, so walking it is. What kicks me, is I've had crushes before and never turned into a blathering idiot around them. Like Myron Wagtail, the lead singer of Weird Sisters. My walls were covered in posters, my bag sported all sorts of pins, and I even had his name tattooed around my ankle. And did I flinch when I met him backstage after a concert? Absolutely not. I was sharp as a tack. I didn't even turn into a blathering fan girl when we snogged some on his dressing room couch. The funny thing is, after that, I lost interest. That always happens with my crushes. Once I get em, I ditch em. Maybe that's all I need to do with Lupin. Get in some quality snogging, maybe a shag, work him through my system, and be done with it.

As I suspected, Lupin is buried up to his nose in books in the Black Family library – still the main base for the Order. He doesn't even look up when I sit across from him at the long table.

"Wotch'cha doin, Lupin?" I ask, knowing it's a dumb, dumb, dumb question but dumb questions seem to be the only thing that comes out of my mouth when faced with Remus Lupin lately.

"Reading," he answers, not looking up.

"Bout what?"

"About methods that will hopefully help the Order in our fight against the Dark Lord."

"Oh. Well, um, fancy a break?"

"Not particularly."

"A tea?"

"No."

"Coffee?"

"No."

"Bite to eat?"

"No."

"Seedy motel room with one of those vibratey beds where we can shag our brains out?"

_That_ gets him to look up.

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted to see if you could answer something besides 'no'," I say on a grin, shoulders slumping as I thankfully relax a bit. "I didn't mean it. . .Unless you want me to mean it. Then I'm up for a little tumble."

Lupin pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, rubbing his tired eyes. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that."

"That would be another no then, eh?"

"A very decided no."

I lean back in my chair, kicking my feet up onto the table. "You look like you could use a break. I can run get something if you like. There and back faster than you can say 'Great Green Goblin Boogies.'"

Lupin laughs – actually laughs! -- and I relax all the more. Cool. This 'Be Myself' trick actually works.

"Some tea and sandwiches might be nice," he agrees.

"Too right," I say, standing. "Wanna come along or should I deliver?"

Lupin thinks a moment before reaching for his coat and bag. "I'll come along."

"Great," I say, catching a glance of myself in the wall mirror opposite and noticing pink highlights beginning to shoot through my hair. "Sounds magical."

He gives me a slightly funny look at my word choice, but decides to ignore it, shrugging into his patched up tweed jacket and shouldering his bag. It looks a lot like mine but rattier and with his name sewn on it. _Professor RJ Lupin. _

"Ready, Professor?" I ask.

"Don't call me that," he says. "It makes me feel ancient."

"Right-o," I agree as he grasps my elbow and steers me toward the door. "Lupin it is then."


	3. Chapter 3

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 3

We decide on a little coffee shop not far away. One of those university type dive places where people discuss philosophy and, at any moment, someone may or may not start reciting poetry. Not really my scene, but I like the laid back atmosphere. I normally like dancing – feeling the music pulse through me – but that's the last place I'm gonna take Lupin to when what I really want to do is talk. Dancing is where you take dates you don't want to talk to. Coffee shops just beg 'have a deep, meaningful conversation.'

"No, my treat, I insist," I say after we order and he makes like to pay. "I asked, I pay. If you feel like paying, you do the asking next time."

"Fair enough," Lupin says, sticking his wallet in his back pocket.

They're fairly quick with our order so, in no time, we're weaving our way around bean bag chairs and black lights to a small corner table. Our knees bump under the table.

"Sorry," Lupin mutters, trying to rearrange himself in the small space so we're not touching.

"Don't move," I insist. "I think our knees can stand being bumped up against one another."

"I thought you might be uncomfortable."

"I'm ok," I say, smiling to prove it. I concentrate a sec and my hair goes from being right below my ears to brushing my shoulders. I pick a bit and start twirling it around my finger (nervous habit). "So, um, find anything interesting in all those books?"

Lupin nods, sipping at his tea. "It's not best to talk about Order business in public – you never know who may be listening – but yes. There are some very interesting bits in the books."

"Cool. So, um, what'cha want to talk about then if Order business if off limits?"

"We could enjoy the silence," Lupin suggests.

"I'm not much of a Silence Type of Girl."

"I noticed."

"So, um, had any girlfriends?" I ask, doing a cannon ball into the conversational deep end. "In the past, I mean. I know ya don't have one current or, if you do, she's very well hidden. I don't think you're the type to keep a bird on the side so signs point to _no_ on the girlfriend front."

Lupin chokes a bit on his tea but recovers nicely. "That's really nothing you need to know about. It's private."

"What if I want to make it public?"

He shakes his head, pushing the tea and half-eaten sandwich out of the way. "I know where you're going with this, Tonks. I've tried to make it clear that I only wish a working relationship. I had hoped that would discourage your feelings."

At least he didn't call it a crush.

"I'm not much for taking hints really," I say. "I guess _I_ had hoped that you'd come around eventually."

"I'm too old," Lupin says, looking down into his tea cup so he doesn't have to meet my eyes. "When you were a baby, I was helping James and Sirius convince first years to build a tree house in the Whomping Willow."

"That was you?" I breath. "Wow, that stunt is legendary."

"We were also the ones who charmed the basement floor to look like a swimming pool and dared the Slytherin to jump in."

"I best I ever did is get the Toilet mirrors to tell girls they had huge spots all over their faces."

Lupin covers his mouth with his hand so I can't see he's smiling. Does he really think he has to be serious _all the time_? Where's the fun in that?

"The point is, Tonks, that you were still in nappies when I was a fourth year. I'm practically old enough to be your father."

"No, you're not," I insist. "A rather older brother maybe, but not my dad. My dad's ancient – loads older than mum."

"Sometimes I feel ancient."

"Well, you're not," I say, putting my hand over his. "You're still young. . .ish." I laugh when he gives me a look that clearly says 'Oh, you're a big help.' "Sorry. I don't care about that, Lupin. Really. It's just a silly little number, right? What does it matter?"

"It matters a great deal to me."

"Well, it shouldn't. Stop acting old before your time. I bet you were always the one who said 'I don't think we should be doing this guys', am I right?"

"Well. . .yes."

I lean across the table, eyes bright. "So don'tcha think it's about time you started living a little and stopped being Mr. Fuddy-Duddy Professor Lupin? Have a bit of fun."

"Tonks--" he protests.

"I could be fun."

Lupin shakes his head, standing and readying to leave. "Please, don't. I have no wish to hurt you."

"Then don't."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I. . .I can't. Good bye."

He leaves me all alone but, really, I'm not that discouraged. That was just strike one, right? Three strikes and you're out. I have two more to go.


	4. Chapter 4

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 4

I'm not going to bother Molly with this one. She's got enough on her plate already but it so totally winds me up that he thinks he can play the "too old for you" card. Nothing doing! Age is such a silly little thing. Why do people get so hung up over it? You spend your whole life being told "it's what's on the inside that counts" and then, the second you look into someone's insides and like what you see, they pull the age card. "We can't be together because I'm old and you're not!" Part of me wants to just go "scrap that!" and find someone else to pass the time, but an even bigger part wants to try harder. I don't give up easily. He should know this.

So I'm back to wandering about outside. By myself. Thinking of him.

"Bugger this," I mutter before apparating to a block from the Black House. We're not supposed to apparate directly into the house for fear of someone figuring out the location, so a block away it is. I don't mind a short walk. Beats being tortured if I'm discovered.

There's something we call "The Magic Back Door" so I let myself in through that. Lupin seems to be spending more and more time here loaded down with books searching for whatever answers he thinks he can find in the Black family library. It's always the first place I look for him. It hasn't let me down yet.

"So, I was thinking, tea's not the best to get all deep, dark, and personal over," I say, plunking myself and my bag down across from Lupin at the library table. "We should try dinner next."

"There is not going to be a next time, Tonks," Lupin says, not even bothering to look up from the latest tomb he is thumbing through.

"I know this great little Muggle restaurant around the corner," I continue. "All soft lights and violins. Not really my scene, but I figure if you're 'too old' to date me, you're too old for clubbing. Though you might look pretty hot in leather and a studded collar. Still, I want to talk and can't really talk much over blaring techno music. Believe me, I've tried." I give him a grin, which he completely ignores.

"I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the resources to go ou--"

"Oh, get off it, Lupin!" I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not asking you to go dutch or anything. I ask, I pay, remember? I just want to talk away from books and worries and everything else bogging us all down. Even you deserve a night off. Wotch'cha say, Lupin? Come out with me."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Alright. I'll go. . .But it's not a date."

I grin, my hair flaring to bright fucia with very little effort. Excellent. "Of course it's not. I'll come by around six then."

Lupin nods, eyes returning to his book. "Around six then."


	5. Chapter 5

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 5

The best part about being a Metamorphmagus is, if I don't like something about my appearance, I just change it. Bad hair day? Fixed in a jiff. Horrid spotty complexion? Not anymore. It's great. For my date that's not a day with Lupin, I decide on curly, shoulder length cherry red hair and ocean blue eyes. Much nicer than my real shades of each. I squeeze myself into my favorite black corset dress and paint my nails and lips to match my hair. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I take the necessary precautions when returning to the Base so as not to be discovered, finding Lupin right where I left him.

"So, ready for a life changing experience?" I announce my presence, perching on the edge of the table in my best Betty Page impression.

A smile quirks Lupin's lips which he instantly tries to cover with his hand. "Let me just mark my place in the latest."

"Like what you see?" I try again, striking another pin up pose that would make Betty proud.

"Have you seen my coat?"

"Over there," I say, pointing toward the couch. "Don't you have _anything_ to say to me, Lupin?"

"I'm starved. Let's go."

"Oh, you are so doing this on purpose!" I complain, hopping off the table and trailing him to the back door. "Maybe you did learn a thing or two about acting disinterested from all those years of school with Sirius."

"Maybe he learned from me."

"Funny, for somebody whining about his age, you sure are acting young now," I point out, leading the way to the restaurant once outside. "Fuddy-Duddies don't tease like that."

"I never said I was a fuddy-duddy," he says. "That was your term, not mine."

Lupin actually holds the restaurant door for me which is cool. I think the last time someone did that, I was three and couldn't reach the handle. Since it's still fairly early for the dinner crowd, we're lead to a secluded table straight away.

"Care for wine or should we just go straight for the beer?" I say.

"Water for these old bones."

I study him over the top of my fancy menu. "What gives? Did someone hit you with a Happy Charm or something? You're being unaccustomedly nice."

"I've been thinking that perhaps you're right," Lupin says. "Perhaps I have been acting old beyond my years and need a change."

"You actually thought over something I said?"

"Yes, and taken it to heart."

"Coo!" I whistle. "That's banger news."

Lupin laughs. "Let's order and then, perhaps, go someplace a little less formal."

"My bedroom?"

Spoiled it there. He presses his lips into a firm little line like he's about the reprimand a student but stops short of ordering me off to detention or docking house points. Still, the relaxed air is gone and he's back to being Professor RJ Lupin – Fuddy- Duddy Extraordinar.

"Tonks. . . ."

"Lupin," I challenge. "Can'tcha take a joke?"

"You don't mean it as a joke. I can tell."

"So you picked up mind reading from all those books now?" I ask, forking my fingers through my hair but getting them tangled up in the unfamiliar curls. "If you don't like the joke, say 'I don't like the joke.' Don't go all cold-fish on me again. I thought we were making progress."

"I don't like the joke," Lupin says. "This is not a date, remember? No bedrooms involved."

"So, if it were a date, there'd be bedrooms involved?"

Color flares to his pale cheeks. "You get my meaning. Stop playing dense."

"Look, maybe you're right," I say, pushing my chair back with my legs. "Maybe I'm being completely daft to think it's even worth my time and effort chasing after a git like you. You're obviously not interested, so enough time wasted." I stand, rummaging through my little make up bag just to occupy my hands. "See ya around, Lupin."

"Tonks, wait," he says, grasping my wrist and gently tugging me back into my seat. "Don't go. You're a very desirable young woman and anyone would be a git to pass you up."

"But that's exactly what you're doing," I say. "If I'm so desirable, shouldn't you be flattered that I'm paying you any sort of mind?"

"I am flattered," he says. "Trust me, it does my male ego good but I. . .You deserve more, Tonks. You deserve someone whole."

"But I want you."

He shakes his head and I notice how the restaurant lighting picks up the silvery-gray streaks. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough." I thump my chest with a fist. "Sorry doesn't make the feelings go away."

"That's all I can offer now," he says. "I know the words are trite, but they are all I have."

"You have so much more to give if you just allow yourself to let go," I insist, leaning across the table to grasp both his hands in mine. "Let go, Remus. Love me."

"I can't," he says, turning his face away. "Don't ask me to again."

This time it's his turn to stand and make a show of leaving. I don't even attempt to stop him. It wouldn't do much good if I tried.


	6. Chapter 6

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 6

There's knocking at my flat door. I try to pull my pillow over my head and forget about it, but it just grows louder and more insistent.

"Coming, coming!" I call to whoever is outside, shrugging into my see-through black mini-robe in an attempt to cover the camisole and knickers I call pajamas. "Is something wrong at the sch—Oh. It's you."

Lupin comes in without so much as a how d'ya do, handing over one of the steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee he has with him. "Here. Drink up."

"Why?"

"Because I need you alert when I speak to you."

"If this is another round of 'I'm too old, broke, or – I dunno – lupine for you' I'm really not interested," I say, sipping on the coffee none-the-less.

"I --" Lupin stops, taking a good look around my flat with clothes and books and food containers sprawled out everywhere. "Did someone hit your flat with a Whirling Dervish Spell?" he asks. "It's a mess."

"Nope, just a 'Tonks' hasn't felt much like tidying up' spell," I say, giving him a grin and salute with my cup.

"Why don't you do it the old fashioned Muggle way?" he asks, already setting to work on clearing the table of old mail and take-out food containers.

"You mean use my hands?" I ask. "How boring. They're best served for other purposes." I give Lupin a wink which he completely ignores as usual. Does the man _never_ think on double meanings?

"I'll help," Lupin says, organizing the trash into a neat little pile off to the side. "Get dressed. We'll have you able to view your floor again in an hour tops."

"Oh, joy, an hour of cleaning," I grumble, heading for the loo to change since I doubt he'll appreciate a show. Probably just get me another lecture about being too young or wild or whatever annoying reason he's come up with today about why we do not suit. Bloody hell, does he stay up at night thinking of new ways to shoot me down?

I have some clothes hanging on the shower rod from an earlier attempt at washing, so pick out a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a Mr. Blobby t-shirt. Lupin has made pretty nice work in the kitchen/dining room area when I return.

"I bet your cleaning spells don't go all wonky," I say. "Why don't you make it go faster that way?"

"Because the Muggle way of cleaning can be enjoyable too," he says. "And I'm not doing all the work myself. You're helping."

"Sure I am." I wander over to the little area where my bed's shoved up against the wall, wading through a mountain of clothes to get at it. "So what was so bleedin' important that you show up on my door step? Must be really good since you just love shoving me away."

"I don't enjoy shoving you away," Lupin says. "I just think it's what's for the best. It's a dangerous time we live in with the War against You-Know-Who, Tonks. It's not proper to get involved. Relationships cause distractions and that is something we both cannot afford at this time."

"So when You-Know-Who is defeated and everything is all sparkles and rainbows again, you'll fancy a shag?"

Lupin's eyes bug out but he recovers quickly – right back to Professor Fuddy-Duddy. "That is not an appropriate topic for discussion."

"I know you must have needs like everybody else," I say, perching on the edge of my unmade bed. "Can't you just acknowledge that? I'm not asking for a commitment, just a bit of light in the dark times."

"I'm very flattered by your determination," Lupin says, coming to sit next to me and pat the top of my hand as if I were six and just skinned my knee by falling off a broom. "Really, don't think I'm not, but, Tonks. . . .I'm just – You deserve more is all." He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I lean against his chest, thankful for the small scrap of some feeling.

"But I don't want more," I say, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of him. "I want you."


	7. Chapter 7

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 7

He smells of dusty book pages and some sort of cologne or aftershave. I can't quite place it but it smells woodsy. I like it. I burrow my nose a little closer, hoping for a better sniff. As long as he doesn't take his arm away and give me a "sensible talking to," I'm okay. I'll be even more okay if he just bucks up and kisses me already, but I have a better chance of being invited to Cousin Draco's next birthday party than Remus Lupin kissing me on his own accord. _Must I do everything?_

I shift so I'm facing him a little better, our ankles and feet getting tangled up in the awkward position. "Heya, Remus," I say, blinking once to turn my eyes from brown to blue. "I was thinking. . . ."

"Why are you afraid to show me the real you?" he asks suddenly, surprising the hell out of me when he cups my face in his hands, brushing his thumb across my lips. "You're forever changing your hair and eye color. Even the style. Why?"

"Because I can?"

"Just once, can't you show me the real you? No gimmicks, no games, just you."

"Uhh, if it means that much to you," I say, closing my eyes to concentrate. My hair shifts from its usual short, spiky pink style to straight, brown, and half way down my back. My eyes are easy. They just go back to brown. I crack an eye open to see Lupin's reaction. When he didn't seem repulsed, I open my other eye. "There ya go. Just me."

"Why do you hide it?" he asks.

"Because it's boring," I say. "Who wants to be mousy when they can be unique?"

"You'd be unique even if you couldn't change your appearance at will."

I shrug. "Maybe, but this way is easier."

_Oh Great Green Troll Boogies, I think he might actually kiss me!_

Damn, I love it when I'm right.

Lupin touches his lips against mine experimentally, as if testing my reaction. Yeah, right, as if I'm going to slap him and stomp away when I've been practically throwing myself at him for how long now?

"That was. . .That was rather nice," he says, shoulders relaxing on a sigh.

"It can be better," I promise, waiting on him to make the move so as he will feel comfortable and in control. "That's just the tip of the iceberg."

"I. . . ." He shakes his head, hands dropping from my face. "We shouldn't."

"You asked me to show me the real me – no gimmick, no games," I say. "Now do the same for me. Act how you really want to for once, Remus, not how you think others expect you to."

"Tonks. . . ."

"I'll let you call me Nymphadora and you know how much I hate that."

Lupin makes a sound that's half laugh half amused intake of breath. "Nymphadora, I don't believe you'll ever give up."

"On you? Not likely." I lean forward, putting my hands atop his. "For once, Remus? Please, just for once."

He chews his lower lip, considering, before nodding slowly. "What I really want right now is to kiss you till both our minds blank and we forget everything dark and upsetting and just _feel_."

I give a little laugh. "Hey, no objections here, Professor."

"You know it makes me feel old when you call me that."

"Yeah?" I grin. " Wot'cha gonna do about it?"

Lupin smiles, playing along. "I suppose I shall have to find some way to remind you I'm not some ancient Professor."

"And how ya gonna do that?" I tease.

"By implementing the previously agreed upon method of thought cessation."

"Well, get at it then," I say, smacking at his hand playfully. "I feel like I've been waiting an age."

"I suppose I can oblige," he teases, leaning close.


	8. Chapter 8

Tonks' Lament – Chapter 8

If there was ever a way to forget about all the drama and possible imminent death in my life, snogging Lupin is it.

"Gotta do that again some time," I mumble, lounging on my bed in a saited daze, half-asleep, arm thrown over his chest.

Lupin shifts, tucking me a bit closer, chin resting atop my head. "We never finished cleaning."

"Bollocks to cleaning," I say. "It can be left off for a time."

"I should go," he says gently, fingers playing in my hair. "Research calls."

I burrow closer to make it more difficult for him to leave. "You never gave a reason why you came by in the first place," I say over a yawn. "Did you even have one?"

"Not fully formed," he says. "I intended to outline the reasons I felt we, well, shouldn't let happen what just happened. Maybe I was just searching for an excuse to come by." Lupin kisses the top of my head. "You're quite the intoxicating draw."

I grin. "Thanks. Same to you."

"But we shouldn't let. . .We shouldn't get carried away in this," he warns. "I suppose that's not what young girls want to hear but --"

"I get it. No strings," I say, sitting up to look him in the eye. "Don't worry. Strings aren't my thing, Remus. I don't want to tie you down. Though, tie you _up_ is a different matter entirely." I give him a grin and wink that he actually acknowledges with a slow smile of his own. "Just live in the now. Snatch some happiness while we can. We'll need it for the battle that lies ahead."

Lupin takes both my hands in his, squeezing tight. "Thank you for understanding."

I shrug. "Not an issue. Just promise me one thing, okay?"

"Anything."

"Promise to never call me Nymphadora again. I can't _stand_ it. Mum is on my perpetual shite list for naming me that. And no cutesy variants either," I add.

"Just Tonks then, hm?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah. _Maybe_ I could get used to hearing Ariana – my middle name – but that's a very big maybe."

Lupin laughs. "Alright. It will be just Tonks till you tell me otherwise."

"Thanks, Professor," I joke, leaning in for a quick kiss. "So, wot'cha say to some help with that research duty that's calling your name? I've been known to crack a book in my day, you know."

"I would love some help," he says, drawing me up with him as he stands. "If you can manage to keep your hands to yourself long enough to get some actual work done."

"Don't flatter yourself, old man," I tease.

Lupin slings an arm across my shoulders in a familiar, relaxed way, pulling me against his side. "Shall we?"

I nod. "We shall."

Though apparating is quicker, we decide to walk to the Base. It is the most heady feeling in the world to stroll hand-in-hand with Remus through the streets of Hogsmead. Maybe it will last, maybe it won't, but the important thing is to seize the moment and live in the now.


End file.
